


The Greatest Show on Earth

by grimm



Series: The Devil's in the Details [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Demon!Stiles, Implied sex acts, M/M, Possession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-08
Updated: 2013-05-08
Packaged: 2017-12-10 18:30:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/788879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimm/pseuds/grimm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's losing pieces of time. There's blood on his sheets and in his mouth. There are bruises on his skin and voices in his head and Stiles is pretty sure he's going crazy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Greatest Show on Earth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [oldmanrenkas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldmanrenkas/gifts).



> For Renqa, because she's an angel and her demon!Stiles verse is the best thing since sliced bread.
> 
> I'm not sure if there needs to be a warning on this? Possible non-con, but it's a little convoluted and nothing explicit at all. See the end notes for clarification if you're not certain you want to continue.

The sheriff's office has hired a new deputy, and Stiles' dad invites her over for dinner one night. Stiles sits slumped in his seat, listening to the woman talk about her old department, and how they'd all been fired due to a string of violent murders that no one had been able to solve. Stiles' dad assures her that he's sure she's competent and Stiles gives him a dark look because he's pretty sure his dad is trying to flirt with his thirty-year-old deputy and he's _not_ okay with that. She doesn't seem to notice, though, and keeps fixing Stiles with long smiles that make him uneasy.

When the deputy leaves, she shakes his dad's hands and gives Stiles an uncomfortable hug. He keeps his arms by his side and makes a face at his dad, trying to make it clear this wasn't his idea. He hears the deputy's breath rattle in his ear and she pulls away from him with a slightly perplexed look on her face. His vision flickers for what feels like a second, but when he blinks again, the deputy's out by her car. He shakes his head and goes to help his dad clear the table. His dad says, "I don't know what to think of her," and Stiles agrees.

-

When Stiles wakes up the next morning, he's got dirt on his feet like he's been running through the woods. He watches the water turn brown around his feet while he stands in the shower and wonders how long it's been since he or his dad mopped the floors.

A voice at the back of his mind laughs.

-

Stiles starts losing little pieces of time. They're small at first; he's in math class and then he's sitting at lunch with Scott and Allison and he can't remember how he got there. He's at the grocery store buying chicken for dinner and then he's in the backyard while his dad cooks on the grill. His conscience laughs and says _There’s nothing to worry about._

Despite his brain's assurances, he worries. Sometimes he sits in class and he can hear this noise in his head. It sounds like that bass that plays in horror movies just before something terrible happens, but nothing ever does. He sits at home and does his homework and he thinks he can hear someone talking to him, but he's completely alone. It stresses him out. He thinks he might be going crazy.

"Are you okay, dude?" Scott asks him at lunch one day, and he doesn't know how to answer.

"I haven't been sleeping well," Stiles says finally, and it's true. Or maybe it's not. All he knows is that he keeps waking with his feet dirty and cut, and sometimes he can't even remember going to bed. He wonders if he sleepwalks.

There are many pack meetings. Something's been killing animals out on the preserve, and Derek takes it as an assault on his territory. They spend a lot of long nights sitting in the woods, waiting for something to appear that never does.

One pack meeting he sits there, ill at ease, sweating in the early summer heat. He's on edge because he lost a full day and when he came home from school that day, his dad gave him an uneasy look like he didn’t know who he was. Derek's giving him a similar look now. If he didn't know better, he'd say Derek looks concerned. The meeting ends and he's following the pack out the door, dragging his feet because he always secretly hopes that Derek might call after him (for what reason he doesn’t know, because he’s certainly not going to offer some sort of movie hang-out session), and then he blinks and he's laying in bed at home, his room bright with early morning light.

Stiles' stomach rolls with nerves and when he pulls his shirt off in the bathroom, he finds a livid bruise on his collarbone. It looks like a bite and he touches it nervously. His skin is hot under his fingertips. The voice in his head remarks _Beautiful, isn’t it?_

-

More marks appear on his body, bright bruises and red, raised lines on his torso and inner thighs. The sight of them makes his hands shake, and the voice in his head laughs and laughs. One night he wakes up and he's sure he catches a glimpse of someone outside the window, but the form is gone before he can get a good look.

Stiles dreams of walking in the woods, tasting the metallic tang of blood in his mouth, and one morning he wakes up with the sheets stuck to his body. He sits up and peels them away from him, and they are dark and stiff with blood. He panics and falls out of bed trying to get free, and when he stumbles to the bathroom, his chin is black with dried blood, his arms and hands covered in gore. Stiles gags and scrubs at his skin until it’s red and raw. When his dad comes home, the sheriff tells Stiles they found a woman ripped apart in her home - ripped _apart_ , son - and Stiles stares at his hands, at his fingernails where he couldn't get all the blood out, and thinks _It was me_. The voice in his head agrees wholeheartedly and tells him he's going have a great time rotting in hell.

There's a pack meeting that night and Stiles wants to tell them. He has to, because he killed a woman the previous night and he doesn't remember it, and it’s all the others can talk about. But he can't do it. He opens his mouth several times but no words come out. Derek's watching him, like he always is lately, and there's something unfamiliar in his gaze. It's predatory and frightens him, and he tries to leave quickly after the meeting, but as he's standing at the Jeep, fumbling with his keys, Derek comes up behind him and leans his long body up against him, breathing warm and heavy against the back of his neck. Stiles freezes, trapped between Derek and the side of his car.

"What's wrong?" Derek says quietly, his hands slipping under the hem of Stiles' shirt, hot against his skin. Stiles' mouth goes dry. It's everything he's ever wanted from Derek, but right now it feels wrong, too sudden. He's scared, and Derek must sense it because he pulls back suddenly, and there's confusion in his voice when he asks again, "What’s wrong?"

Stiles turns his head, panicked tears burning in the corners of his eyes, and his stomach twists because Derek looks wounded, like someone's just punched him in the stomach. "Why did you do that?" Stiles whispers. His throat aches.

Derek looks even more hurt, bewilderment on his face. "I thought we—” and then he stops, his face shutting down in the angry grimace Stiles is used to. "You know what? Never mind." And he turns and strides back to the house, his back a rigid, angry line.

Stiles goes home and sits in the Jeep. The voice in his head says _You’re an idiot_ and _He’ll never trust you again_ and _I try to behave and see what happens._ Stiles understands where the bruises on his body came from and he sits in his car and cries.

-

The next morning, Stiles' mouth tastes like blood and there's a piece of cloth clutched in his hand. He uncurls his stiff fingers and stares at it. It's a sleeve torn from a dark uniform, and there's a patch that says _Beacon Country Sheriff’s Department._ Stiles made a low noise halfway between a sob and a scream and scrambles out of bed. His dad is standing in the kitchen and the sight of him alive and whole is enough to start Stiles off crying again. His dad turns from the sink and his face goes white as a sheet.

"Stiles," he says thickly, "where did all that _blood_ come from?"

Stiles looks down at himself. The front of his shirt is stiff with it and he can feel it on his skin, flaking and disgusting. It’s thick between his fingers, peeling on his lips. "I-I don't know," he stammers, and backs away toward the kitchen door.

"Stiles," his father says carefully, "what did you do?"

Stiles doesn't know, but he's pretty sure he killed a deputy and his dad's going to be getting a very somber phone call soon, and he needs to be _gone._ He burst out the back door with his dad shouting after him and disappears into the woods. He runs for a long time, sobbing in fear and panic while the voice in his head chants, _Coward, coward, coward._ He picks up the sound of someone running behind him and then he's tackled from behind and hits the loam hard. He recognizes the smell of Derek, soft leather and aftershave, and goes limp as Derek wraps his arms around him and hauls him to his feet.

"What's _wrong_ with me?" Stiles moans, and the voice in his head sighs exasperatedly.

"You're not you," Derek replies grimly.

Stiles opens his mouth and what comes out are not his words. That’s not him. _It’s not him._ There's laughter instead, harsh and raucous like a crow. It hurts his throat. Derek snarls and everything goes black.

-

When Stiles comes back to awareness, it's like there's a dark film over his eyes. Everything is murky, swimming in shadows, but he's sitting in a chair with his hands behind his back and the pack is standing around him with varying looks of horror and worry on their faces. Lydia stands directly in front of him, an old book held open in her hands. She's reading something that sounds like Latin and someone is screaming. It's him. It’s him, but it doesn't sound like him. There's fire rushing through his veins, burning him from the inside out. Something leaves his body in a rush of dark smoke and unearthly wailing and his vision clears, the dark haze gone.

His body aches and his throat is sore, but he can lift his head and when he does he can see the chair he's sitting on is in the middle of a complicated-looking diagram painted on the floor. He figures it out before Lydia kneels down in front of him to explain. He's had a demon riding his bones for the past three months and he's pretty sure he knows where it came from - his dad's new deputy, who came from a town plagued with violent murders. He remembers how her breath rattled when she hugged him, and how time started skipping after that.

The pack hang around for a while, but the situation confuses them. He's not hurt, not physically, and they offer him encouraging smiles and soft touches, but they retreat eventually, leaving him alone with Derek, who stands in the shadows, face enveloped in darkness.

Stiles leans forward in the chair and sighs quietly, rubbing his hands over his face. When he raises his head again, Derek's standing in front of him and he looks wrecked, his face more raw and open than Stiles has ever seen him. It makes him furious, because the demon tricked both of them, and he hates that he has to see this hurt on Derek’s face. Stiles rises to his feet and slides his arms around Derek, who goes stiff for a moment before returning the embrace, holding him so tight Stiles thinks he might break and Stiles tells himself _This is the beginning, not the end._

**Author's Note:**

> The warning: Stiles is possessed and the demon manipulates Derek into a sexual relationship. Stiles does not know this is happening, as he blacks out when the demon takes control.
> 
> I did a nice graphic for this on [tumblr](http://grimm-times.tumblr.com).


End file.
